My Kingdom - chapter 3
by rose_malmaison
Rating: FRAO
Genre: Slash, DiNozzo/Gibbs
Warnings: M/M, slash, sexual situations, language

A/N: Comments and feedback are appreciated.

*** Chapter 3 ***

Gibbs gave a small groan and turned his head a little towards Tony, but he didn't open his eyes. Tony wondered how much morphine they'd pumped into the ex-Marine to keep him down. A couple of days earlier, when they'd stood over the still-comatose Gibbs right here in this room, Jenny had worried aloud that Gibbs might be in pain. Tony's biggest concern at that point was that Gibbs wouldn't survive. But now his color was better and he was breathing on his own. The only sign that the sleeping man was troubled was a small furrow between his brows.

Tony carefully brushed his boss's gray hair back off his forehead then reclaimed his limp hand once again. The white of the pillowcase was stark in contrast to the red, peeling skin on his face and neck. Gibbs had, apparently, been awake and mobile enough at some point earlier that day to shave the hair off the sides of his head. He'd left the top a little longer in a military cut that came somewhere between a fade and a Gibbs-version of the high and tight. Once a Marine, always a Marine.

Some of the red patches on Gibbs' face were pretty raw, but he had already healed since the first time Tony had seen him unconscious and intubated. That had been scary. He had joked with Jenny about giving Gibbs the coffee he always craved through an IV, their banter being a way to stave off some of the fear that hovered just beneath the surface. Tony had almost lost it when Jenny's voice had broken in concern over the unconscious man, but he'd put on his best face and managed to hold his feelings on a tight rein.

Tony had been afraid that the depth of his concern would be apparent to the Director, or to Ducky, who was usually too astute for comfort. But both they and the doctor were too preoccupied with the patient to notice that Tony's casual pose was all a sham. He had crossed his arms in order to stop his hands from shaking, he was so upset to see Gibbs lying in the hospital bed, so still, so damaged, so unlike the vital man he knew and loved.

Shaking off the anxiety that the memory caused, Tony stroked Gibbs' arm. It brought him a small measure of comfort that he could finally touch Gibbs. Had it only been a couple of nights ago that they'd shared dinner and sex before they'd headed out on a night investigation of the recently docked Bakir Kamir. It felt like a lifetime ago, as if it was a memory from another era. He just wanted things to be as they were, back to normal. So why did this bad feeling stick in his gut, warning him that things would never be the same again?

"You look like you went on a Spring break bender and fell asleep on Daytona Beach," Tony told Jethro in a low voice. Gibbs' lips moved and for a second Tony thought his boss had heard him. He leaned over the bed, squeezing the injured man's hand encouragingly. "C'mon, Jethro. You don't want me to stick sunglasses on you and carry you around like in Weekend at Bernie's, do you? 'Cause if you don't wake up soon, I'll do it. You know I will. I'll get Probie to help."

Tony was glad it was the middle of the night, that there was hardly anyone around, and that he could simply be close to the man he cared so deeply about. For now that was all he could expect. Within a couple of hours he had to return to work and to the investigation.

The nurse came in every now and then, fiddled with the monitors and tubes, and then left as unobtrusively as she'd entered. The last time she'd ghosted in, she'd asked Tony if she could heat up the coffee he'd brought with him, and when she brought it back a short time later the rich aroma filled the sterile room.

When Jenny had informed the team that Gibbs' memory was fried and he recalled nothing of the past fifteen years, Tony had felt disbelief and then a surprisingly intense pain. Then he'd scoffed at the idea. Damn it, no way could Jethro forget about him. It wasn't possible. He'd wake up in the morning and everything would be back to normal. But then he remembered that Gibbs didn't even remember Ducky, for God's sake. That alone was a very bad sign.

Leaning over the hospital bed, Tony allowed himself to bring Gibbs' hand up to his cheek as he whispered, "You'd never forget about me, about us, would you, Jethro?" Even as he said the words aloud, there came a sharp stab of fear that Gibbs might never regain his memory of the past fifteen years. Who knows what was going on in the brain of his? He'd been hit damned hard by the explosion. It wasn't Gibbs' first concussion, either, not by a long shot. Doc said there'd been another bad one, years ago during Desert Storm.

Gibbs so rarely let any details about his past slip out that Tony stored away each and every piece he gleaned over the years, just like he saved the many medals and awards his boss had accumulated during his time at NCIS, yet had never accepted. Tony decided he'd just have to help Gibbs out by telling him what he needed to know in order to catch up with the present.

Still, because of everything he'd shared with the man, Tony was hopeful that Gibbs would open those blue eyes of his and look at him with recognition. He had to, just had to remember him. They'd worked together almost every day for five years, for Chrissake, and had been more than co-workers for the past few months. Much more, ever since Kate was killed. No way would Gibbs forget their shared memories.

Jethro had made it clear from the start that he didn't want anyone to know about his relationship with Tony. "No point in giving anyone ammunition against either of us," was the way he put it. Tony had wheedled a bit, but Gibbs had no give in him on the subject. So they'd kept it quiet and at first Tony had enjoyed sneaking around, making love whenever they could squeeze it in, urgent and illicit. It was their secret.

No way was Tony ever going to jeopardize his position on Gibbs' team by kissing and telling, and Gibbs had no trouble keeping their relationship close to the vest. They were both well aware what discovery could mean - anything from dismissal to transfer to some ugly homophobic reprisal. He'd had a taste of that in the past. He not only didn't want to deal with it ever again but he didn't want Gibbs to be hurt.

But things hadn't been going well recently. Being together in their own little world had its payoff, of course. It gave them a special and common bond that was theirs alone. Being on guard when they were at work wasn't particularly hard for Tony but when they were off-duty and in the company of friends, and he had to repress his feelings, it felt like they were lying. Just a week earlier Tony had asked Gibbs, cautiously, if they could tell Ducky, or maybe Abby. Gibbs' answer was an adamant "No."

If Tony thought back to the point at which they'd started to have trouble in their budding relationship, he'd say it was after he'd gone undercover as an assassin alongside Ziva. Gibbs had been… well… jealous wasn't the right word, but he'd made it clear he didn't want Tony getting that close to anyone else on the team. Possessive was a more accurate term. That implied ownership without love, an exertion of power tempered by an underlying insecurity.

But Gibbs wasn't insecure, thought Tony. He was strong and sure of his feelings even if he didn't talk openly about them. He was a man who knew what he wanted and he made it clear that he wanted Tony in his bed. It was good, damned good, thought Tony with a smile, but it just didn't feel like love to him. Not that Tony could honestly say he'd ever been deeply in love. Not before he'd fallen hard for Gibbs, anyway.

Tony still went over to Ziva's place to watch a movie with her once a week or so, as their schedule allowed. She was surprisingly adept at understanding the foreign films he wanted to view, the ones that nobody else would watch with him. Nothing cleared a room faster than inviting people to watch a German Expressionist film, but Ziva always stayed the course. He liked her company but their relationship outside of work was pretty much limited to a mutual appreciation of obscure or foreign films. They might pepper their conversations with innuendo and friendly insults, but neither of them took it any further. Tony had a feeling she didn't want to rock the boat.

Gibbs had made it clear that he didn't like Tony spending time at Ziva's place. They'd had words about it after Gibbs eventually stated that it wasn't Tony he didn't trust, but Ziva - at least so far as Tony went. He sounded jealous. It was the first time Tony had seen that side of Jethro, although he'd shown his protective side from the day Tony had joined NCIS.

"It's only a movie, Jethro. I like to watch with someone and you hate the movies I pick. You start snoring after the opening credits. Besides, this is Ziva you're talking about." He gave a derisive huff. "It's not like she's gonna make any moves on me," he said with a roll of his eyes. He pointed out that Gibbs trusted the woman with his life every day. How could he think that she, or Tony, for that matter, would do anything to break that trust?

But Jethro dug in his heels and they quarreled. Or it would be more accurate to say that Tony quarreled because he did most of the talking. And shouting. "Like the other night. You refused to watch Send Me An Angel with me."

"It was an Israeli movie, Tony."

"It had subtitles."

"In Hebrew!"

"At least you could have watched it for the man-on-man action." The film was about letting go of past loves and preconceptions and he hated that Ziva understood it and Gibbs wouldn't even give it a chance. "Ziva watched it with me," Tony said even though he knew damn well it was the wrong thing to say.

Gibbs stood there with an inflexible look on his face and once Tony had finished he'd asked, "You going to show me you're serious about us, DiNozzo? Because I get the idea this is all some game to you." He'd moved in close and spoke in a low, gruff voice that under normal circumstances would have been a big turn-on for Tony. "Because I will not share you with anyone else. If you want Ziva then you damn well move in with her."

Hurt that Gibbs thought he wasn't in it for the long run, Tony retorted, "Are you ready to tell our friends that we're together now?" The reply was an unrelenting look from those blue eyes that showed not a single ounce of give. As a result Tony left, slamming the door behind him, angry beyond reason at both Gibbs and himself.

Over the next couple of days, Tony was torn between sticking to his guns and being almost desperate to smooth the frown that marred Gibbs' brow - the one that showed up every time he pretended not to be aware that Tony was standing near him in the squad room, or deepened when they sat at their respective desks, heads down, studiously avoiding each others' eyes. It was painful to endure, and the ache in his heart got so bad that Tony finally gave in and turned up at Gibbs' house with a pizza and a plea for reconciliation. The pizza, needless to say, got cold, and the sex was hot.

They made up with an almost desperate session of sex, and then returned to their normal pattern of living, still without any words of commitment. Tony knew he couldn't force a declaration out of Gibbs, but he could do his part to show him he was serious about their relationship.

Before their quarrel Tony had never stayed the entire night at Gibbs' house. He'd rise sometime in the early hours and return to his own place, get a couple hours of sleep and a change of clothing. Then it was off to work and another day acting as if there was nothing more between him and his boss than a work relationship. Gibbs had never asked Tony to stay the entire night before, but from the moment they made up he indicated he wanted Tony to remain by his side, holding onto him when he started to leave their warm bed.

Slowly but surely Tony left more of his belongings strewn around Gibbs' house, took over a portion of a closet, and pushed for a bigger TV and a cable connection. Gibbs accepted the changes without resistance, and seemed to be genuinely happy whenever Tony and he were able to sleep in, lazily entwined in a tangle of heavy limbs.

Only now the initial bloom had worn off, Tony wanted more than just sex, and he was more than willing to do anything to make their relationship work in the long run. He reasoned that due to his long track record of short-term and failed affairs, at least he knew what not to do. He was smart enough to learn from his mistakes.

This wasn't a fleeting involvement for Tony, and was sure that Gibbs felt the same even though the older man had never actually said he'd commit. He had never said he loved Tony, not in words, not yet, though he showed it in so many ways. Tony knew it was only time before his lover came around and spoke aloud what was vividly apparent in his eyes.

Gibbs always got what he wanted, and Tony was pleased to give it to him. Okay, maybe Gibbs didn't always get what he wanted, mostly because Tony was pretty good at reading the man by now and wasn't above working him in subtle ways. But Jethro was as stubborn as anyone Tony'd ever met. He found it a challenge to test the older man, mentally and physically, and even if Tony lost a skirmish, he figured he ended up winning in the end. Like after wrestling for the top position, when Gibbs pressed Tony to submit to him in bed. Tony fought back hard and didn't pull his punches so when Jethro overwhelmed him and took him roughly, Tony relished the surrender. When they finally came together the sex was good - mind-blowingly good, Tony thought with a smile.

Gibbs kept a big chunk of his life to himself. Although he'd told Tony something of his life with Shannon and his daughter, and had briefly mentioned their deaths and the aftermath, that was a period of Gibbs' life that was off-limits. If he volunteered something in conversation, that was fine, but Tony never pressed. He knew his limits as far as Gibbs went. There were some lines that even he dared not cross.

Yet despite keeping their lives secret and separate from friends, when they came together it was as if nobody else existed. The whole world may have been out there, insistently banging on their door for attention, but when they bunkered down inside the cocoon of their own making the two men were oblivious to anything but each other and their mutual pleasure. Tony knew he loved Leroy Jethro Gibbs with his entire being, and he was never going to let what they had slip away, no matter what.

*** end chapter 3 ***